Red Stars
by R.L. Sisters
Summary: "In every mind, there is a spark of rebellion. All you have to do is give it a chance, a little air, and it'll go up in flames." I never wanted to change the world—I just wanted to leave it colder. But, they took away everything. Everything. They caused me ruin, and because of that I will not rest until I have destroyed every one of them. —Save your breath...this isn't over. -R


**Okay guys…so a Tak-revenge story! Woot, woot! I haven't done any sort of "prose" in FOREVER, so this won't be very good. Basically, this is just one HUGE songfic…**

**For a band.**

**The band I speak of is "The Birthday Massacre," and the songs I will be doing are "Looking Glass," "Red Stars," "Burn Away," "Shiver" among others. I'd HIGHLY recommend you look them up—at least the songs that corresponded with each chapter.**

**So… "Looking Glass" The Birthday Massacre **

**-R.**

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My fate hung by a string.

I bit my lip—this couldn't be happening. Not to me. Not to _me_. Not to me, Tak! An Invader, an Elite!

I stepped back, my antennas pinned to my head at an almost painfully sharp angle. My heart hammered in my chest, pounding adrenaline white-hot through my veins. My PAK scrambled through options, escapes, orders—everything in my programming, everything I had installed, fiddling at a hurried pace past every circuit board and synapse.

I stuttered, screaming at myself to do something, anything but stand here…paralyzed. Frozen. Catatonic with the dread and shock that shook me to my rotted core. That made something like fear shoot through my nerves. But, none of my training, none of the sophisticated programs loaded onto my brain could have warned me about this…after all, the only alternative they gave me was to follow orders. That's what I've always done…well, most of the time.

But, that didn't seem to help me. I gaped, trying to keep my combatant aplomb, trying to keep my composure. But, inwardly, I was almost panicking. And…for what seemed the first time in my life, I didn't have any idea what to do.

"My Tallest," the words poured from my mouth frantically, tangling around my worm-like tongue and slurring past my teeth, "t-this is surely a misunderstanding…?" it sounded like a question.

I turned towards my awaiting leaders, looking at me with a disapproving glint in their lofty eyes. They stood on a raised, rounded platform that jutted out from the arena, leaning down with their crooked backs arched unnaturally. They looked massive over me, like gaunt, emaciated shadows, insect-like eyes reflecting a harsh light.

I gulped, wanting to squirm beneath their scrutinizing gaze, feeling like some alien beneath a probe. But, it seemed they weren't just judging me…there was something else in their eyes. Something I hadn't expected.

They didn't look concerned. They seemed almost…bored! Maliciously uninterested, but still…almost mundane. Their eyes didn't speak of any trouble, or even any annoyance. Not even a slight disturbance…It was like they didn't care! Or…maybe—maybe they didn't.

Indignity echoed through my head and dribbled into my chest, bouncing through the hollows of my ribcage and harping on my heartstrings. I stiffened, and I could swear that my PAK was whirring so loud with dampened malice that they could surely hear it.

I narrowed my eyes to agate slits, throwing my gaze around the arranged computers and militia that surrounded me. The room was a circular arena, with a raised ring of seats garbed in the standard metallic purple and green. The circle itself curved down to form a smooth lip, set high enough to prevent any physical attack from me, and spread far enough to where I couldn't reach either end with my PAK attachment. In each station of the barred ring, an Irken stood in a congregation, right up to where the Tallest were set on a small, rounded ledge.

Tall figures peered down from their elevated perches all about me, their back crooked as the settled like a row of waiting vultures, antennas cocked back in irritation. I could feel their eyes boring into my skin, the reflective sheen of their pupil-less eyes boring into my skin.

The soldiers were silhouetted by row of computers behind them, reading off letters and files that flashed dully. The screens casted a pale blue light that occasionally darkened to green or black, eclipsing the arrangement to silver-lined outlines.

I nearly quivered against them—all that could be seen from their sharp-shadowed figures was their eyes. Stone-hard glares meeting my own, furrowed brows and grimaces. Worry, as cold as snowmelt, slipped down my spine.

"I beseech you…" I began, stomaching the dull stares of the Tallests. But, as I tumbled on, my voice trailed off—they seemed more concerned with getting back to the snackroom than me! My claws drew into fists, and I could feel the assembly drawing around me, their analyzing eyes narrowed, dissecting every move.

The guards behind me grumbled.

I knew what I should do. I should lower my head and surrender, excuse my logic and allow myself to lapse back into desensitization. I knew what was coming for me after all…but that just wasn't an option! My PAK buzzed inside my head, picking at my brain and swabbing up the cobwebs that seemed to have grown in the hardware latticework of that fleshy matter. \

I worked too hard for this. I had given everything. I didn't care what happened to me, I was willing to give up anything to Tallest, I gave everything to the Armada. I gave everything! Every little thought that I had, every little thing I ever wanted, every ambition, every hope, everything.

And for what?

For this?

I stared up at them, my purple eyes no more than narrowed gashes. This couldn't be happening. Not to me.

The Tallest Red gave a slight nod, accompanied by a gesture towards one of the computers, and the screen flickered to a file. I began to tremble with a mixture of disgust and dread, and my heart dripped into my spiddly-spooch. _This can't be happening!_

The computer fizzed and beeped, and a few Irken letters and symbols slid over the monitor. A mechanical voice sputtered from the speakers. "Janitor Unit Tak," something like unfettered bloodlust rain through my veins at the _mention_ of such a name. I never, ever wanted to hear those words together ever again! It took all the control I could muster not to leap up there and rip the wires from that machine, to turn on every Irken who ever put me through that.

"You have gone against direct orders from the main computers, stolen Armada property, and interfered with a mission of an invader." _Ha!_ I thought, Zim? An Invader! _Even someone as_—I stopped myself, I couldn't even think an insult to them...No, it was against everything. But the concept was completed, and I knew that they were aware how incompetent Zim was. "You have dishonored your race and your commanding officers. You are scheduled for prompt liquidation. You are an obsolete threat to the Armada—I repeat, you are scheduled for termination."

My world crumbled.

"No…" I hissed—everything I had ever worked for, everything I had every wanted, taken away with those few words. My entire smeethood flashed through my brain—all the work I'd done, all the times I had almost lost limb and life for my loyalty. Now, all betrayed and torn down by…by the one time I had done something for myself. Something like hatred and desperation crawled over me skin.

"Please reconsider," I nearly growled, each word dragged out of me.

"Deactivation," the automated words dropped dully, like falling stars into my skull. Pent-up frustration pounded through my head, causing a racket in my brain. My PAK struggled to sate my odium, sending sedatives to every unsettled nerve.

I couldn't take this anymore.

I just couldn't' take this.

"You can't do this!" I finally burst, all my rage flowing out through those words that boomed through the room. The congregation seemed shock by my outrage, and I could hear hisses and ill-words seeping like poison from their mouths. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" My hands curled into fists, and I was practically snarling, my voice shaking with so much rage and anguish, I didn't know it was possible. "I worked too hard! I worked too hard for this! You—you can't do this!"

I stepped forward, my lip wreathing to show a line of zipper-like teeth. I didn't even know it was possible for this much emotion to come out of me. It was like nothing I had ever felt before, and even as the guards slipped from the side and grabbed my arms…I didn't regret any of it.

This was the most amazing thing I had ever felt.

Anger.

Pure.

Wonderful.

I pulled away from the guards, this hideous beast ripping through my veins, tearing me from the inside out. I struck out blindly, not even aware of what I was doing, a scarlet haze in my vision, in my head. The guards kept their iron grips on my wrists—they were far stronger than me. But, even as they did, I ripped my arms to and fro, not even caring—not even feeling—as they nearly popped from their sockets.

I was pulled onto my back, and they began to drag me as I screamed and tore the air with my voice. My shrill cries rung through the arena, and the accumulated soldiers drew back in horror and shock. I kicked my feet and threw my head up, scraping my skin in my struggles.

I couldn't imagine anything better than this.

At least, under the consequences.

"You'll regret this!" I screamed, feeling more alive then I knew possible. "YOU'LL ALL REGRET THIS!"

_You aren't the ones I thought you were._

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**Herp derp. So…not very good. ;-;**

**Sorry peeps.**

**Review? **


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